Meifu's Gate and Sukuse: The Oneshots (I) Hunter's Reprieve
by VraieEsprit
Summary: In the months after the death of Seimaru, Misashi and his family work hard to put back together the mess of District Seven. Going through the prison records, Misashi discovers that not all of the Endou shinigami adhered to Seimaru's pillage rules - and the grisly nature of their fates. In the depths of the Endou dungeon he encounters one such soul... Oneshot


**Meifu's Gate:Hunter's Reprieve  
**

 **The Story of Kitabata Hajime  
(One-shot)**

 _Digging through some of my old files, I found some bits and pieces that never got published as part of a Meifu story._

 _Here is one such. Set in District Seven, following the death of Seimaru but before Eiraki's flight with Keitarou is the story of another key figure from Sukuse: Hirata's future Fourth Seated officer and later Vice Captain, Kitabata Hajime._

 _Bleach as ever is copyright to Kubo Tite. Meifu and Sukuse are my mad rambles. I apologise in advance for the absence of Juu and Shun from this one-shot._

 _I also apologise that my Rose story is in limbo/hiatus. This is entirely due to Rose's manga status. So long as that continues, there will be no continuation to Marigold._

* * *

It was a long, dark walk down into the pit of the Endou dungeon.

A chill, fetid wind swirled through the gaps in the stone, sandy rock mixed with impure cuts of Sekkiseki and rough-hewn slabs from the many quarries around District Seven. There was no natural light this deep beneath the earth, for the place had been carved out of the bedrock some several decades earlier, and damp had begun to seep through the cracks, offering a tempting home to fungi and other spreading organisms. The soft squeak of something small and dark as it disappeared into one of the crevices only underscored the poorly kept nature of this part of the prison, and for a moment Misashi paused, resting his hand against the wall to regain his bearings.

The Sekkiseki's aura gnawed into him, for his body was still weak from its last encounter with the substance and despite the torch his manservant carried it was difficult to see the path ahead of him. Their shadows danced on the walls, making it appear like the ghosts of condemned men still roamed here, and Misashi's lips thinned at the thought.

It was less than two months since District Seven had been thrown into confusion by the murder of his father, Shouichi and the usurpation of power by his nephew, Seimaru. Since then, it was like the whole region, plunged into anarchy and economic standstill by a draconian dictatorship had begun to jerk awkwardly into life, its governmental systems twitching like numb limbs afflicted by pins and needles. At the helm of all of this had been Misashi who, when the smoke had cleared and the corpses had been counted, had been left holding the reins of power. Now his only focus was to create a world stable enough for his only son and heir to govern when he came of age, and so a moment of frailty could not be forgiven, nor could there be any second guessing in his conviction about what was right. The Sekkiseki mines may have had dark connotations for the past few generations, but they were also the lifeblood of District Seven's revival, and even if it hurt him to go there, Misashi was not a man who was prone to running away.

It had been whilst he had been going over paperwork in regards to this that Misashi had stumbled upon one of Seimaru's prison record books and, as he had gone through the pages, he had realised with a growing amount of dismay that Shouichi had not been the only one to fall foul of his nephew's tyrannical purge. The book had contained a long list of those imprisoned in the dungeon on spurious charges without trial, and, in ominous red ink, most of the names had been scratched through.

Most of them, but not all.

As he had read through the volumes, the idea of inspecting the mines had faded into a distant second place as Misashi had put all his energy into tracking down those left languishing in Seimaru's cells.

Some he had found too late. Some had been skeletons left in corners without food or water, barely recognisable if not for the record book - but Misashi had not given up. In the new Seventh District, people would not be left just to die. If they still lived, these political prisoners were yet another wound that needed to be healed. His Clan could not rule the District if they themselves were fragmented, but even if all he could offer the families of those locked away was their loved ones' corpses and a decent burial with honour and respect, he had already resolved to do it. To close the book on Seimaru's era required him to go to whatever lengths necessary - even if it meant descending into Seventh District's own equivalent of Hell.

"Such a sorry place, filled with gloom and despair," he murmured aloud now, more than half to himself. "It's as though they've been thrown here and left to rot...to decay and die, forgotten."

"Please mind your step, my lord. The stones are worn and broken here."

At the sound of Misashi's voice, the manservant turned, the flicker of golden flame from the torch illuminating his face and highlighting the concern etched there for his master's safety. Despite his unease in this environment, Misashi felt reassured by the man's words, proof that there was another living soul in the dungeon with him, even if all those held here had already been killed. Kibana was far from fit himself, just returned to District Seven two days earlier following a serious injury, but Misashi had not wanted to come here without the man he trusted the most, and when he had been asked, Kibana had agreed without hesitation.

"According to my father's records, this section of the jail was no longer in use," Misashi responded now, stepping carefully around the crumbling sections of stone and onto a firmer platform of rock to join his retainer. "I suppose with that being the case, he didn't see any purpose in refurbishing it. The mines have been dead a long time - both the Sekkiseki ones and the ordinary quarries by the border."

"But Seimaru-sama was using this place?" Kibana asked quizzically, and Misashi nodded grimly.

"I'm quite sure," he agreed, running his fingers along the wall and grimacing at the grime and dust he picked up. "Though the atmosphere in here is appalling, so whether we're looking for living men or corpses, I really don't know. If I'd found the records sooner...but it couldn't be helped. With the Council's involvement, there were other things to settle, not to mention my son's training, and bringing my wife and daughter back home."

Kibana did not respond for a moment, negotiating a tricky patch of jagged rock having taken all of his focus, and then he let out his breath in a sigh, touching the fingers of his free hand gingerly to his gut.

"I should have accompanied them myself," he said regretfully. "My apologies, Misashi-sama. My carelessness resulted in this wound and my inability to ride as soon as I would have liked."

"You already risked life and limb by riding them into District Eight and safe exile in the first instance," Misashi shook his head firmly. "No, Kibana, I will not allow you to feel guilty. The scar you now wear across your belly was one taken bravely in my service and I'm grateful for it. All the more grateful that you decided to return at all - as a citizen of District Eight, and with us in such disrepair, you really had no obligation to."

"I had an obligation to the lord I serve now," Kibana said simply, shrugging his shoulders and causing the lamp to flicker in the cool air. "I may have been a hired sword once, but my loyalty is given now and not easily bought. Once I knew you were alive, my lord, coming back as soon as possible was imperative. This is my home now - and besides, my wife would've been cross had I tried to send for her to come to District Eight. She would've considered it much fuss about nothing - which is how she generally views the most of my military exploits."

Despite himself, Misashi chuckled.

"I am grateful to her that she indulges the request I place on you," he observed, amused. "Much will change in District Seven now - I hope, for the better - but it will be a long haul. I am glad to have you with me today, Kibana. Even if you are still officially convalescent, you are still the one I trust most to accompany me into dark and gloomy prisons made crypts by my nephew's paranoia."

"A worthy analogy, for what it's worth, sir," As they stepped out onto a flat corridor of stone, they reached the first of the cell doors, and Kibana lifted the lamp to the grille, wrinkling his nose up at what he saw inside. Misashi cast him a glance, and Kibana slowly shook his head.

"Long dead," he said simply. "By the looks, charred from the inside out. This one was fire-cursed, Misashi-sama, not starved like those in the previous pit we visited. No amount of speed would've saved this one - it takes the young _bocchan_ from the Kyouraku to outsmart a _zanpakutou_ 's curse...and I suspect he died a long time before Seimaru himself did. Just nobody bothered to scratch off his name."

"I wonder if that will hold true for everyone in here," Misashi murmured, his expression troubled. "The records didn't state clearly what the crimes were these people were being held under. None of the ones in this dungeon had faced any kind of trial yet, not even a show-trial. Seimaru seems to have been in the process of following in Father's example, purging the Endou of anyone who might oppose him and creating a dynasty founded upon fear. The only key difference is that Seimaru had no consort like Mother to reel him in when need be...not that I can honestly say Mother did a lot of reeling, and, if I'm fair, probably there were times it was the other way around."

"Seimaru-sama was a disturbed young man," Kibana said gravely, and Misashi nodded.

"He was his father's son," he said simply.

"As Hirata-sama is yours, my lord?"

"I don't know," Misashi hesitated, a shadow crossing his expression, and Kibana cast him a quizzical look.

"Misashi-sama? Is there something wrong?"

Misashi did not answer right away then, as he reached the door of the condemned man's cell, he exhaled heavily.

"No, I suppose not," he reflected. "Whether Hirata is my son or not...I suppose time will tell. He will raise a _zanpakutou_ , and then we'll know for sure...what kind of an Endou he'll be. It's always a gamble, Kibana...and when I think upon it, and on how much I've banked on him being the solution to this Clan's unrest...I just trust that my gamble will pay off."

"Hirata-sama isn't a violent young man, though," Kibana pointed out. "He is intelligent and well-mannered and he understands the duty to his family better than most young men of his age would after a year or more in exile."

"Yes, but Endou spirit power is not compromising, and Hirata has a lot of it," Misashi rubbed his grimy fingers against the fabric of his cloak with a grimace. "Hunting birds are hard to tame, but I am putting my entire hope - and the hope of this District - in my son's ability to tame his and use it for the common good. If I have miscalculated...then we are all doomed."

Kibana shot his master a thoughtful look, but to Misashi's relief he did not offer any comment, merely turning his attention back to the row of cells. At each he held up the lamp, squinting through the bars, but each proved the same as before, containing a mangled corpse gnawed to the bone by rodents, the flesh charred from the inside and split apart by the resultant heat. Each body had been robed in identical grey prison attire, stripped of anything that would have given a clue to their identity, but Misashi retrieved the record book from the heavy sleeve of his robe anyway, flicking it open and thumbing through the pages until he reached the list of names.

"We have five dead, here, on this level," Kibana reported. "All the same, all killed by Seimaru-sama's _zanpakutou_. Obviously he felt a trial for them would have been too much bother - or too risky. I can send men to see to the remains, my lord, and on finalising a burial. I would not ask relatives to come identify dead that have been left to rot in such a state, but at the very least the corpses deserve some kind of formal interment. And it's not as though we're going to be able to recognise at a glance any corpse scorched to cinders and left to rot for..." he wrinkled up his nose, "more than a few weeks."

"Yes, do that." Misashi closed the book with a snap and a sigh, returning it to its hiding place. "To the level below then, Kibana...though if those bodies have been there long enough that even the rats have bored of them, they've probably been here as long as I was held in Hokujou or thereabouts. There was nobody stationed here when we arrived this morning...and nobody has been here since Seimaru died...apparently not even the Council representatives. Without food and water, there's little likelihood of finding anything but corpses below, too."

"In that case, my lord, maybe you should leave this matter to me and my men and return to the fresh air," Kibana suggested. "I know that the Sekkiseki affects you more than it does me and you are still not entirely fit yourself."

"No, this is my duty as the new Clan leader, and I'll see it through, even if the news is bad and the stench worse," Misashi responded frankly, stepping past his retainer and onto the next flight of stairs down into the bowels of the earth. "Better me than Hirata, for the time being - so we should press on."

The two men descended in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the echo of their feet against the cold hard stone and the occasional sputter of the torch as the flame greedily consumed the wood. This was the oldest level of the prison, for the other cells had been added during time of civil unrest, when Shouichi had felt the need to hold several of his kinsfolk prisoner at the same time, and as a result, the walls were more professionally fashioned, the doors taller and sturdier and the cells leading off along a long dark winding pathway. This broke off into several more dark tunnels that held yet more cells, and at the very rear, a large domed chamber in which was kept the prison supplies and two bunks for guards left on watch overnight.

As they passed the door of this chamber, Misashi heard a rustle, pausing instinctively and pricking his ears as he gazed around him, looking for any sign of danger. Ahead of him, Kibana had already passed the torch to his left hand, his right clasping the hilt of his sword in readiness for the draw. For a moment neither of them moved, each straining to pick up any other sign of life, but with a squeak and a scuttle, a large greyish rat hared across the walkway in front of Kibana, disappearing into a gap in the wall. Misashi sighed, shaking his head slowly.

"Vermin don't seem to mind Sekkiseki," he observed dryly. "I'm of a mind to condemn this place completely and have the tunnels filled in - there seems very little salvageable in...Kibana?"

For the swordsman had tensed, darting suddenly across the pathway in front of his master and throwing open the door to the large store chamber that had been the hub of the prison. The torch flickered and fluttered at the sudden movement, and Misashi found it hard to follow what happened next, but an exclamation by his retainer followed by the sound of something hard clattering against Kibana's sword told the Endou Clan leader that he had found trouble and instinctively he hurried forward, his fingers poised to cast a Kidou spell, even though he knew that the unsettled Sekkiseki atmosphere would probably render such a gesture futile.

On entering the storeroom, Misashi could just make out a cloaked and hooded individual, some kind of implement clasped between grimy fingers as he tried to push past Kibana's drawn blade. Kibana had not worked as a hired soldier for nothing, and he held firm, shifting his body to ensure that the figure - whoever and whatever it was - could not launch a secondary attack in Misashi's direction.

"Stand down and name yourself!" Kibana demanded of the stranger, but there was no response, just a renewed effort to push the soldier aside. A flicker of the cloak indicated a movement of the head towards the direction of the door. Tightening his hold on the makeshift weapon, he drove a knee up towards Kibana's gut, and the mercenary cursed, only just managing to spring back in time to avoid contact with his wounded abdomen. Though he had dodged it, the grimace on his face told Misashi that his retainer had jarred his still healing body, and this realisation seemed to bring him back to where he was and his position, for he stood forward, holding up his hands. His fingers glittered faintly with red light, and at the sight of it, the stranger, who had been on the brink of making a run for it, faltered, apparently discomposed by the sudden sight of the Endou Clan leader's face.

That moment of hesitation cost him his escape, for Kibana had recovered himself, grabbing the man roughly around the upper torso and using his advantage to push the stranger against the wall, pressing his blade against the individual's throat to prevent him from struggling any further. He still did not speak, and Misashi stepped forward, grabbing the weapon from the captive individual's grasp and gazing at it in surprise.

"A table leg?"

"Anything can be a weapon in the hands of a rogue, Misashi-sama," Kibana did not relax his hold for one moment. "Please stand back. I can hold him. He's not getting away from me that easily."

"Misashi...sama?"

Before the Endou lord could reply, the cloaked individual's lips parted, his tones hoarse and dry.

"Endou...Misashi...sama?"

"You know the name of the man you sought to do harm - you should be well aware what penalty follows an attempt on the Clan leader's safety."

Kibana's tones were low and matter-of-fact, but Misashi had known his companion long enough to understand the suppressed pain that laced each note. His instinct had been right, then. Kibana had pushed himself and he had jarred the still healing wound.

"Clan...leader?"

The captive echoed the words incredulously, and though the light in the chamber was poor, Misashi could tell that any will to fight back on the part of this unknown man had drained from his body. He sighed, reaching out a hand to rest it on Kibana's shoulder.

"Any who have been down here a few months would know nothing of what has happened above the surface," he reminded his manservant softly. "Time here has stood still. Don't hurt him, Kibana. I don't believe he knew who he came to attack. Besides, if he has been down here as long as I think, I doubt there's enough fight left in him to do me any harm, even if he sought to."

Kibana hesitated, then drew back his sword reluctantly, and the cloaked figure let out a little gasp, stumbling and falling to his knees. Still placed between the captive and his lord, Kibana watched the man's actions like a hawk, but instead of attempting to flee or launch a second attack, the man did not try to get up or even raise his head.

"Misashi-sama..." he whispered, but that was all he managed, for the strings of tension that had been holding him together appeared to break, and he slumped forward onto the cold prison floor. Kibana let out an exclamation, turning to glance at his lord in astonishment, and Misashi's lips became set in a grim line as he crouched cautiously at the man's other side.

It was soon clear, though, that the individual had lost consciousness, and, as Kibana carefully turned him over, Misashi pushed back the folds of the cloak, revealing the pale and gaunt features of an emaciated prisoner beneath. He wore the same dirty grey uniforms as his less fortunate comrades, and at his wrists were steel cuffs, proof that he had been further confined to prevent his escape. His reason for being here, Misashi did not know, but as he cast Kibana a glance, he realised that his manservant recognised the unfortunate individual.

"Kibana? Do you know who he is?"

"I don't know his given name, sir, but I think I do, yes," Kibana spoke darkly. "While you were imprisoned, my lord, Seimaru-sama had me work among his guards folk, and sometimes I spent time within the inner court of the Clan. What Seimaru-sama's motivation was in so deploying me I am not sure - perhaps to help weave the web of that scientist - but whichever is the case, I spent some time with the Endou council. This man has similar features to one I saw there - one who never spoke, and who, when I saw him, always seemed to carry the world on his shoulders."

"This man is not at court now?"

"He withdrew to his manor, my Lord, a few days before I took Sumire-sama and Eiraki-hime to safety in Eighth. I heard from other soldiers that he had been petitioning Seimaru-sama about something - and that ultimately, he had failed."

"Petitioning the release of a kinsman, maybe?" Misashi mused, and Kibana nodded.

"The man's name is Kitabata, I believe," he agreed. "He is a fringe member of the Clan, and I don't believe I ever saw him participate in any Clan discussion. I noticed him only because of the shadow that seemed to hang over him - his concern reminded me of yours, my lord, the last time we met before your confinement."

"Kitabata," Misashi clicked his tongue against his teeth thoughtfully. "And you believe this man is a relation of that one?"

"I would guess his son, sir. The resemblance is striking, although this individual is in a poor state. He's no more than skin and bone."

"Then we should take him above ground and see whether there is anything that can be done for him." Misashi got to his feet, wiping the dust from his fingers.

"You are sure, my lord?" Kibana was hesitant. "He did come at you as though to attack - what if he provides a threat to you when freed from this place?"

"As you said yourself, this man is skin and bone. There's nothing here to give him the strength to launch an assault and the cuffs at his wrists mean that he's been deprived of all his spirit power. We came here to save lives of those Seimaru condemned...if we leave this man here, we will simply be adding to my nephew's paranoia." Misashi's words were firm, and Kibana sheathed his sword.

"I'm sorry, sir. I think perhaps I too spent too much time around that paranoia. I will see to bringing him out of here, though - if only to settle my own hesitations about his motives should he regain consciousness."

"Can you manage to lift him?" Misashi decided it was better not to argue. "In that state he doesn't look like he'd weight very much, but you're not fully fit either and I know that pushing him back aggravated your injury."

"I can manage," Kibana assured his companion, proving his word true by hauling the emaciated stranger up onto his shoulder with a sigh. "It's not ideal, but I am all right. Please don't worry about me, Misashi-sama. Mercenaries are trained to be tough to take down, and as a soldier you learn that, so long as you can remain on your feet, you can fight to see another day."

"Then we should return to the surface. We've seen no other signs of life down here, and if we save only one prisoner, then we do," Misashi said wearily. "We go back to the surface. Follow me."

* * *

"He is resting comfortably, Misashi-sama, although he is extremely weak and I imagine has not eaten a proper meal for some time."

The physician got to his feet, casting the skinny individual that lay in the bed before him a glance before turning to face his lord. "I imagine you found him just in time. A day or two more and he would have been like the others you found. In all honesty, I think that it's a miracle he was able to stand, let alone try to defend himself."

"He gave up when he saw me, and heard my name." Misashi leant up against the window-frame, folding his arms across his chest. "I've sent Kibana down with some men to make certain there are no others, but the state of the dungeon tells me that such a thing is unlikely. Kibana thought he was a kinsman of a man named Kitabata - but I confess, I don't know him."

"Kitabata-dono spends little time at the central court," the physician looked thoughtful. "I know of him, because I treated his wife for a complaint when he last was here. I believe he has a minor position on the central court, but withdrew from it on the death of lady Yayoi to tend to his wife's frail health."

"Kibana seemed to think he had returned here - to petition Seimaru about something?" Misashi looked quizzical, and the physician shrugged.

"I don't know anything about that," he said frankly. "I don't attend things such as the court, Misashi-sama, and my acquaintance with the man is just as I told you. I haven't been summoned to visit his manor for some time, and I have not seen him here - but if Kibana-dono thinks he saw him, then probably he did."

"I wonder if he was petitioning Seimaru for the release of this man," Misashi wondered pensively. "I checked the records, and there is indeed a man by the name of Kitabata who is listed among Seimaru's criminals. The charge listed is dereliction of duty and treason against orders. Anything more specific I cannot find - but the cuffs at his wrists suggest to me that he is in possession of higher than average spiritual power."

"I think that to be likely, sir," the doctor agreed. "I do not have the equipment or spiritual expertise to remove those cuffs without endangering his life, and so I have not tried. When he is stronger, perhaps, we can consider it - but for the time being, I think it best we leave them."

"I am placing a guard at the door to ensure that, when he rouses, he cannot simply wander off on his own devices," Misashi responded. "He is still a prisoner until I know his motives. It's true that he stopped attacking when he knew my name - but I will err on the side of caution before assuming any who crossed Seimaru must automatically be allies of mine."

"A wise decision, my lord," the doctor offered a smile. "I don't think he will do you any harm like this, though. He may rouse up soon, however, and I will send someone to prepare a plain gruel for him to eat when he does. It may not be appetising but it will give him back nutrients that he has lost - and the sugar-water I've given him so far will only do so much. He needs food but we must not overtax his digestive system...I don't know what he might have been able to eat in a place like that, and the first rule of medicine is 'do no harm'."

"An ironic mantra in a District like this one," Misashi sighed. "Very well. I shall stay a while, then, if you think he might wake. I am more than capable of defending myself against an unarmed invalid, especially now I'm not surrounded by Sekkiseki, so you can go. Please do as you suggested. I should like to save his life for now, even if ultimately he proves to be someone I have to kill. I am not Seimaru. I will deal with such things in a humane manner."

"Yes, sir," the physician bowed his head, withdrawing from the room, and Misashi was left alone with the patient. As the door slid shut, the Clan leader slipped his fingers into the folds of his obi, pulling out a scrap of paper and smoothing it out over his knee.

"Kitabata Hajime," he read softly. "Dereliction of duty. Treason against orders. Sentence of confinement and death at Seimaru-sama's pleasure."

A low murmur from the bed drew his attention back to his companion, and he refolded the paper, returning it to its original location. Placing himself in a position where he would be in the line of sight of the individual when he woke, he placed his hands behind his back, the words of a bakudou spell ready on his lips should the need to use it arise. For a moment the man's eyelashes merely trembled against his ashen skin, but at length he seemed to find the strength to open them, blinking slowly and ponderously as he struggled to take in his surroundings. The light was probably uncomfortable to his eyes after so long in the dungeon, Misashi realised, but though the individual squinted against the sun, he made no attempt to lift his hands to shield them from the glare.

Instead his hazy gaze drifted in the direction Misashi stood, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the features of his lone visitor.

His lips parted, and Misashi saw them move, the word they spoke almost inaudible.

"Misashi...sama?"

"You know who I am, but we haven't met before, have we?" Misashi's response was calm and even, and the man drew a shuddering breath into his lungs, slowly shaking his head.

"I...am not...worthy...of...your...recognition."

Each word was a challenge to expel, yet somehow the man managed it, and Misashi sighed heavily.

"On the contrary, I think you must be quite remarkable. Of all the prisoners my nephew confined to rot in the dungeons below this manor, you alone survived. More, you were free from your cell - which I can't imagine was your original state of confinement. And, despite being in those conditions, you managed to stage action in your own defence. Yes, I think you are quite remarkable, Kitabata-dono. Well?" as the man flinched. "That is your name, correct?"

"Yes...sir. Kitabata...Hajime."

"And hearing that name brings you discomfort?"

"No...sir," Kitabata shook his head imperceptibly.

"Then why flinch at hearing it?"

"Not...that...sir. I...unforgivable...action. I...did not...recognise...in the dark. I...tried..."

Kitabata was losing coherence, but Misashi understood, and he smiled faintly, dropping down beside the bed.

"You have shame that you came at Kibana and I in the darkness, and that causes you discomfort?"

Kitabata did not respond, but Misashi could see the answer in his eyes.

"My nephew confined you for treason, but you did not wish to harm me and feel shame that you attacked us in the dark?"

Again, no reply, and Misashi moved to touch the silver cuff that rested snugly around Kitabata's wrist.

"This is a spirit draining cuff, isn't it?"

"Yes...sir."

Kitabata's voice had fallen to barely a whisper, but in the quiet of the chamber, Misashi could hear his words clear as day.

"None of the other prisoners were wearing such things. The Sekkiseki of the cells was considered to be enough, I suppose. Why are you wearing them? There must be a reason that Seimaru confined your spirit power as well as locking you away."

"It...was...my...humiliation...sir." Kitabata coughed, and Misashi reached for the mug of water that stood on the nightstand. Though he had been determined not to get too close to the prisoner in case he proved dangerous, something of the man's predicament reminded him of his own recent rescue from confinement, and so he carefully brought Kitabata's frail body into a sitting position, lifting the sugar water to the man's lips in order to let him drink. Kitabata's eyes showed clear surprise at this kindness, but he made no attempt to resist, instead greedily consuming the liquid until the vessel was quite empty. Watching the way in which he drank, Misashi realised that he had had little water either in his place of confinement, and again he marvelled at how this man had survived.

"Humiliation?" was all he said now, however, setting the empty vessel back down on the unit and allowing Kitabata to rest back against his pillows. "Can you tell me what you mean?"

Kitabata raised his arm slightly, the limb trembling with the effort, and he let out his breath slowly.

"I...was...shinigami," he murmured. "Seimaru-sama...took...my sword...from me. To make...so I couldn't...hear it...he...put these..."

"A shinigami?" Misashi's eyes widened. "You were a member of Seimaru's squad?"

"Yes...sir. For a brief time."

"But you were confined for treason? Explain yourself to me. Why did you earn my nephew's displeasure?"

Kitabata's eyes became sad, and he closed them momentarily, gathering himself before answering.

"I...will not...kill innocent women...and...children, sir," he said quietly. "I...am not...a hunter...of such people. I...trained with...my sword...to kill...those who...threatened...my Clan. Not...common folk...cowering...in fear."

Misashi's expression became one of comprehension.

"You didn't believe in the purge of District individuals. When Father ordered the shinigami to hunt the Urahara and slaughter the District people themselves, you objected," he murmured. "Because you objected, Seimaru had you arrested and confined pending execution. He wanted to fire-curse you, but he never had the chance. Am I correct?"

A slight nod of his companion's head told him he was, and he sat back on his heels with a sigh.

"That nature of treason I can sympathise with," he admitted. "I also do not believe in the slaughtering of District individuals. Whether they are or are not of use to us in the long term as spiritual fighters, I do not know - but they are of use to us in the economy of this District, and we are honour bound to protect them. I no longer wonder at the marvel of your survival. I am more astounded to find a shinigami that served Seimaru and maybe Father who did not follow the path of bloodshed they prescribed."

"I...have shed...blood...sir. I...took lives." Kitabata shook his head. "Only...the lives...I took...were of my...comrades."

His eyes darkened.

"I...betrayed...my squad," he admitted evenly. "I...am trained...to kill...and I...am an Endou. I am...a hunter. But I...was not trained...to watch...the rape and torture...of defenceless womenfolk. Such things...rouse my...urge to kill. There...were four...men with me. I released my...sword...and I killed...three. The fourth...took injury...but escaped. He reported me to...Seimaru-sama. And I...was...arrested."33

Misashi's eyes narrowed.

"I see," he said softly. "You describe it as a one off incident, but it really wasn't, was it? From the time the order was given, you were fighting against it, weren't you? So many refugees managed to escape to District Eight, despite the orders to have them slain. Now I begin to understand how they did. You were working to protect them, weren't you? How many of your comrades in arms did you bring down, protecting my common folk from mass slaughter?"

Kitabata's expression became one of consternation, and Misashi knew his instinct had been right.

"I...was not...alone," he murmured. "Several...of us...felt..."

"But the others are the corpses I found in the cells, correct? All condemned for treason against the Clan, and all left to die - or fire cursed by Seimaru's sword?"

"Yes...sir."

"And only you were cuffed, despite this?"

"I..."

"You were the ringleader," Misashi's brain was working fast now. "You were the one Seimaru wanted to avenge himself on the most. That is why you were the last to be killed. He wanted you to know all your comrades had been killed first, correct? He let you out of your cell so that you could see the damage to your comrades and hear their screams. But he made sure you had no way of escape, because he cuffed you and locked you in. How close am I to the truth, Kitabata? Tell me honestly. I want to know."

"Your words...are truth, sir," Kitabata's eyes filled with resignation. "I...am a...traitor and...I was condemned...as such."

"A traitor to Seimaru, maybe," Misashi said evenly. "That doesn't necessarily make you a traitor to me."

"I...tried to...attack..."

"You thought I was Seimaru or his guards, didn't you?" Misashi asked, and Kitabata nodded.

"In this state...could not...kill him," he said regretfully. "I thought...to make him...kill me...by the...blade...of a...warrior. Not a dog's...death...by his...fire curse or worse, sta...starvation."

"Seimaru is dead, and so he won't be coming for you any time soon," Misashi said matter-of-factly. "He lost a battle of wits and blades with my son, and the Council of Elders have been here. For the foreseeable future, I am in charge - Hirata is not of age, but when he is, I will entrust all to him. When that time comes, Kitabata, I want to know where your loyalties would lie. My son does not believe in slaughtering innocent people, and nor do I. Your actions were bloody, but I do not blame you for them. I believe Seventh has been under the cloak of war without any such declaration being made - and in that situation, you fought the battle in the only way you knew how. For the time being, I intend to keep you confined here - because I think your case must be heard before the Clan. But I am going to ask them to rescind Seimaru's sentence of death. I wish you to work off your debt to the family in another way - by using the skills and ethics you clearly have to help consolidate the path for my son in the future."

He reached out to touch the bracelet.

"I cannot remove these, yet. Not without seeking expert help," he added, "but you said yourself you have a sword. You are already stronger than I can be, and I would have you defend my son's life the way you defended those common folk. If I asked such a thing of you, Kitabata...would you accept?"

"Protect...Hirata-sama?" Kitabata asked faintly, and Misashi could see the incredulity on his gaunt features. "One...like...me? I...am...only...Fourth Degree...sir. I have...no..."

"You have the credentials of honour, because I can see from your expressions that every word you have spoken to me today is truth," Misashi said categorically. "You have not asked me for your life, which is why I am inclined to give it. At the very least, I will have the Endou court hear your case fairly. If I do that, Kitabata Hajime, will you repay me with your loyalty? If I give you your life back, will you use it in my name - and one day, in my son's? I am not a shinigami, and Seventh's squad is under interdict for now - but one day, that will change. When it does, I should like you to be a shinigami once more...only this time, at my son's command."

Kitabata did not reply for a minute, then he sighed, closing his eyes.

"My life...belongs to...this Clan," he murmured. "What happens...to it is the...decision of the...Clan leader, not...me."

"That sounds like a man resigned to death, if I may say so."

"Death holds more...appeal...when...life...means...being...confined...in that...place with...only rats...as food." Kitabata said matter-of-factly, and Misashi's lips thinned, remembering his own confinement. He nodded.

"I agree," he said frankly. "I was confined by Seimaru too, and left to die. I understand your feelings better than you think I do, Kitabata...for that reason, I think we can work for the same aims. For the time being, though, I want to see you recover your health. My physician says you are badly undernourished and he has been authorised to provide you with food and water, so I trust you will not refuse it. If you care for this Clan, work in my favour. Things are going to change here...I need people like you to help them change."

Kitabata opened his eyes, regarding the Clan leader thoughtfully for a moment. Then he nodded.

"I will...do...as you wish," he agreed. "My sword...is confined...and I do not...know where. But...if my...cuffs come off...I will...use my spirit power...in your name and in...Hirata-sama's...too."

"Good." Misashi stood to leave, but a word from the bed made him pause.

"Misashi-sama...I have...no right...to ask...anything...in return," the invalid murmured, "but...I wonder..."

He faltered, and Misashi offered him a smile.

"A message has already been sent to your family's manor, and your Father will doubtless come here when he knows I have you safe in my care," he said gently. "I believe he has suffered a lot because of your confinement...and I would not have him suffer more. He petitioned Seimaru over something - and I am assuming that something was your life. I will speak to him when he arrives - and, I hope, persuade him to follow your example in coming to my side. He has not been actively at court for some time, I believe, due to your mother's health - but while you were being treated I did some digging and I discovered he has quite a political history behind him at Father's court before that time. He seems like someone I can utilise - so I intend on doing that, if I can."

He paused, then,

"I will let him come see you, too," he promised. "So long as you repay your word to me by eating and getting well, I will do my bit for you. I am a father, Kitabata, and I too was taken from my son. Now I have had the good fortune to see him again, I understand what it will mean to your father to see you safe."

"Will you...tell him...where...you found me?"

"I won't tell him any unnecessary details of your captivity - nor, if you wish, the details of the crimes Seimaru held you on, although the court will hear those sooner or later." Misashi replied. "As a father, though, it would pain me to know my son had been treated in the way you have. I think the information about your confinement - and the deaths of your fellows - can stay between us."

"I think...so too." Kitabata looked relieved. "Especially...my mother...If she...still lives. My life belongs to you…Misashi-sama. Please…do with it as you will."


End file.
